Last night, I found myself sitting on my couch watching old music videos from the 80’s and 90’s. Why? I don’t know. It just kind of happened. One minute I was watching the Bachelorette (Don’t judge me) and the next minute SWV and Roger were serenading me about how “so into me” they were and how this “computer love” drives them crazy. Yeah. Weird, right? But as I continued to watch I became amazed at the way the music triggered so many memories for me. It was like each song sent me back to a specific place and time in my life. It wasn’t about whether it was a good or bad memory so much as it was the fact that the songs allowed me to take a journey with myself into myself. Then I got all creative and stuff. Decided to write a poem. It’s been a while since I’ve toyed around with verse even though that is where this writing thing began for me. So I’m sharing it with you today. Just because I feel like it. And I think you might understand.
The music chases me.
Stumbling back into long forgotten memories
And I willingly fall.
Reveling in the melodies of my youth.
Of naiveté laced with the purest of innocence
Of the unsure shrug of a stonewashed, bobbed out,
cabbage patchin’ brown girl from Kentucky.
Cracked but not yet broken.
I peer into days when lyrics and beats
and synthesized, New Jack rhythms echo my girlish hopes and dreams.
Dreams so transparent that the Son seemed to shine through so easily.
Unknown and Ungrown
Undeterred by even my earliest trials.
Each verse of each song tracing an outline of an identity unformed.
Though I now have filled in many of those empty spaces
with other less melodic concerns.
It’s the music that provides the soundtrack
of a past most unperfected
But most certainly…